


All of the Love I See (Say You Feel It Too)

by bella_my_clarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Again, Bellarke, Cuddling, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fluff, Marriage, Mutual Pining, SERIOUSLY THE FLUFF IS INTENSE, bellarke canonverse divergent, fluff af, hand-holding, implied heart eyes, marriage for a treaty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 04:25:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8564005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella_my_clarke/pseuds/bella_my_clarke
Summary: “Really, Clarke,” he continued, “I think we can get away with it; after all, the Azgedans will be gone in a few days, and I doubt they’ll ever check in. Then we can—”
           “Bellamy,” Clarke interrupted. “What are you talking about?”
           “The...wedding night,” he explained, swallowing around the words. “I know it’s tradition or whatever, but since it’s fake and all....”
           “Fake?”
Or: the treaty marriage au





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from song lyrics of The Words by Christina Perri
> 
> There's super super implicit things of sex but like? In marriage? And 0% graphic? So I didn't feel like I needed to make this teen and knowing half of you sinners even if I did you'd think it was tame sooooo
> 
> WARNING: THE FARTHER YOU GO THE FLUFFIER IT GETS

This wasn’t how Clarke had planned her and Bellamy’s wedding.

Not to say she had planned their wedding a different way, but if she had, hypothetically, it would not have been like this. There would not be grounders all around them, or a looming war over their heads, or the awkwardness of their last conversation. _Sure, I’ll marry you. Just business, right? For the treaty._

At least they’d convinced Azgeda to let them wear their ‘traditional’ Ark wedding clothes; Clarke wasn’t sure she could handle being in a grounder uniform again, especially not in front of Bellamy. Instead, she wore a crown of flowers (another lie by Abby so they wouldn’t make Clarke wear a grounder veil) and a simple dress that seemed to be made from several different worn-through clothes, giving it both the illusion of being extremely beautiful and extremely old.

Bellamy looked much better—although, to be fair, he would look good in anything. Since there weren’t any good groom clothes to be found, he just wore his normal clothes, except with a nicer shirt and a crown to match Clarke’s. He smiled at her from across the hall, but he looked nervous.

The proceedings were long and boring and, to be honest, Clarke really just wanted to get to the kissing Bellamy part, even if it was fake—or, well. Fake for him. She wasn’t sure what it was for her. Anyway, they didn’t even get to stand next to each other until the very end, and when they had to clasp hands Clarke could feel Bellamy’s hands shaking in her own.

_It’s okay,_ she tried to say, squeezing his fingers. He nodded and squeezed back.

“Wanheda, Belomi, as I linked our two Azgeda warriors today, I now link yours,” the Azgeda priest (or whatever you called them) said. “May it serve as a symbol of our treaty, and may your life together live as long as our people.”

That was the cue for them to kiss, but Bellamy hesitated, looking distraught. With her heart in her throat, she held onto his gaze and mouthed, _Together?_

“Together,” he murmured aloud in agreement, and brought his mouth to hers. It was short and cursory, and he didn’t touch her anywhere except their still-clasped hands, but somehow Clarke sensed something in the way he pulled back, like he didn’t want to. Her heart ached.

When the proceedings were over and they were properly staggering with presents, they were whisked off to their room. Their room, because they lived together now. They were married. Clarke found it hard not to be giddy.

Bellamy, on the other hand, seemed to be finding it hard not to throw up. As they walked hand-in-hand to their room – “to show you will not let go of this bond” – Bellamy kept looking at her worriedly, as if she was about to turn tail at any moment, and when they got to their door he stopped in his tracks completely.

“Clarke,” he began. He sounded like he was being strangled. “I don’t think I—they won’t notice, if we don’t....”

He was interrupted by a couple of Arkadians passed by, congratulating them again on the ceremony and how good it was for the treaty. Clarke replied, briefly, then turned back to Bellamy when they went away. “We should probably talk inside.”

He nodded stiffly and they slipped inside their room, locking the door behind them in case any especially nosy people dropped by.

“Really, Clarke,” he continued, “I think we can get away with it; after all, the Azgedans will be gone in a few days, and I doubt they’ll ever check in. Then we can—”

“Bellamy,” Clarke interrupted. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“The...wedding night,” he explained, swallowing around the words. “I know it’s tradition or whatever, but since it’s fake and all....”

“Fake?” Clarke’s heart did a nosedive, even though she should’ve been expecting it. She knew this already.

Bellamy glanced away quickly. “Well, it certainly wasn’t your ideal wedding.”

Now Clarke’s cheeks flushed darkly. Did he know she’d thought about their wedding before? “Not quite, no.”

Maybe she was seeing things, but Bellamy seemed to sink even further at her words. She could tell mostly because he tried to hide it behind a smile. “Your groom didn’t even wear a real tux.”

This was territory Clarke could handle. She stepped forward, playing with his shirt teasingly. “I don’t know, I kind of like this get-up. It makes me feel more like I’m marrying _you._ ”

Bellamy just stared at her for a moment, eyes fluttering. She dropped her hand. “You.... What?”

“I mean, I....” Clarke swallowed hard and averted her eyes. She was screwing everything up. “I don’t want to feel like I’m just marrying a treaty, you know?”

“Isn’t that what this is?” he asked. She could feel his eyes on her, sense the confusion in his gaze.

“Not for me.”

There was a long, terrible moment of silence, and when Clarke finally forced herself to look at Bellamy, she wished she hadn’t. His pupils were blown wide and his lips had parted just barely, like she’d shot him. She bunched her hands in her dress – the wedding dress, the wedding dress – so they would stop shaking. “It’s not fake for me, okay? But you made it clear where you stand, and that’s not fair for me to use you like that, so I promise I can control myself, and if you really want to stay apart and get a...a divorce, or whatever we’d call it, I’ll do it, I just—”

Whatever word she was going to say next got swallowed up in Bellamy’s lips as they crashed down on hers, his hands cupping her face and sliding back into her hair. Her eyes shut instinctively and she moved against his mouth and— _oh._ So that was what it was supposed to feel like, kissing somebody you loved. Not fireworks, not sparks. Just...peace, like she was always going to end up here, with her hands against his shoulder blades and his forehead brushing hers, their hearts beating madly until they found a common rhythm. Kissing Bellamy was like everything with him—it just _was._

And it was so right.

When Bellamy finally drew away, Clarke nearly chased after his mouth, but steeled herself. They were married now. She had plenty of time to kiss him. (Which didn’t, actually, help the urge.)

He smiled at her, softly, in a way that made her nearly ache with joy, and ran a thumb across her cheek. To her surprise, it came away wet.

“Hey, what’s this?” he murmured, voice low and gentle. “This is a happy day. We’re married. No crying allowed.”

She rested her hands on his chest, where she could feel his heartbeat. It was fast. “Of course I’m happy. My concern is more about waking up.”

“Marrying me is a dream of yours?” he asked. He seemed to be going for a playful tone, but he sounded actually amazed by the idea. It made Clarke smile. “Well, then I guess you’ve got two wishes left.”

Clarke rolled her eyes with a laugh. “That is absolutely not how it works. And besides—” she paused for effect— “I think the other wishes are going to be fulfilled soon enough.”

“I’ll do my best to help,” he replied, grinning, and kissed her again.

-

Clarke wasn’t often happy after Mount Weather, and when she was, it was by forgetting the sadness, not overcoming it. But when she woke up on this particular day, she was inexplicably, overwhelmingly happy.

Reason number one for said happiness stirred beside her, his yawn fanning over her face as he blearily opened his eyes. Once he caught sight of her, his expression melted and Clarke thought she might actually die of happiness. She’d never seen Bellamy so...peaceful, so content, as he did right then.

“Morning,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, and ran a hand over his unruly curls.

“Hey,” he replied, capturing her hand and pressing his lips to it briefly. He didn’t let go, either, just ran his thumb over her knuckles, back and forth.

“So,” Clarke said, watching his movements. “We’re married.” She almost dared not say it too loud, in case someone ran in and confessed it was all a ruse. “For real.”

“Yeah. For real. And for an awfully long time, too, if you can stand me.”

Once, those words would’ve driven a stake through Clarke’s heart, a reminder of all the hate he had buried against himself, and everything she had done to harbor that. But right now, she managed to smile. He was being funny.

“You’d have to drag me away by my legs, kicking and screaming,” she teased, though only half-joking. Slowly, she outlined the curve of his face, thinking, _you’re mine, and I’m yours. We’re together now. Nothing’s going to change that._

“We’re sticking together now,” Bellamy said, seeming to read her thoughts. “No more separation, okay? I’ve had enough of that. Whatever happens, we stay on the same side.”

Clarke paused and watched his expression. He seemed a little sad, and a little frightened, though he said it like a fact. She wondered if he worried about them being separated as much as she did. “Together,” she affirmed, stroking a path across his cheek with her thumb.

“Good,” he said, then smiled. “How long do you think it’ll take for them to actually find us?”

“We have a two-day honeymoon and nowhere to go,” she replied, shrugging. “I’d say they won’t even come down this hallway until they have to.”

His smile grew into a grin, and for once in her life Clarke thanked the Azgedans for their stupid treaty rituals. “Better not disappoint them,” he said, and drew her lips to his.

In all honestly, they mostly slept for the next two days, because if any couple was ever sleep-deprived, it was them, but there were no complaints from Clarke. Waking up every time with Bellamy at her side, like he promised, with his arm thrown over her waist and the coolness of his ring against her fingers and his nose brushing hers, was enough.

He was always enough.

**Author's Note:**

> @sherlockvowsontheriverstyx on tumblr <3333333
> 
> Talk to me, eh?


End file.
